


didn't know where we were running to

by xiaogay (sichenqie)



Category: NINE PERCENT (Band), 偶像练习生 | Idol Producer (TV)
Genre: Drugs, M/M, Running Away, there's a lot of stuff that happens i'll fill in more tags later, zzt harem what's new bois
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-07-28 21:32:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16250201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sichenqie/pseuds/xiaogay
Summary: zhengting just wants to have fun. so what if he breaks a few hearts on the way? so long as his heart is in tact...





	1. skinny dipping, sweetheart

**Author's Note:**

> _Do you remember the taste of my lips that night_  
>  _I stole a bit of my mother's perfume?_  
>  _'Cause I remember when my father put his fist through the wall_  
>  _That separated the dining room_  
>  _And I remember the fear in your eyes_  
>  _The very first time we snuck into the city pool_  
>  _Late December, with my heart in my chest_  
>  _And the clouds of my breath_  
>  _Didn't know where we were running to..._  
>  "Roman Holiday" - Halsey

“zhengting, we shouldn’t be here,” wenjun says, but his voice doesn’t shake like it used to when they were 10 and first snuck out of the house to buy some candy down the street. it’s steady and deep, the marks of puberty doing its job and making him a man. zhengting remembers the first time he watched wenjun shave, giggled as he felt his smooth chin afterwards and pressed kisses to his jawline. 

“don’t worry about it,” zhengting hisses, climbs up the fence and swings his leg over before climbing down the other side, and wenjun makes a choked noise that zhengting knows is wenjun’s “be careful—your hip!” noise, but the wound healed years ago and wenjun really shouldn’t be so pressed. 

“hop on over,” zhengting says, waving at wenjun. “no one’s gonna find out. no one really watches the security cameras, and if they do… then i don’t think they’d mind a little show, you know?” 

zhengting’s laugh is lost in the noise of the fence rattling with the clumsy way that wenjun climbs over, all limbs and no coordination. he nearly falls when he gets over the railing and lands on his ass when his hand misses the chain link. for as many times as they’ve snuck into abandon areas and climbed wire fences, wenjun still can’t get the hang of it. staring at the expanse of the pool, zhengting quickly kicks off his shoes, pulls off his shirt.

“wait, you were serious when you said you wanted to go swimming?” wenjun squeaks, forgets to pretend not to gawk at the way the water reflects and shimmers against zhengting’s skin. 

“of course i was serious,” zhengting says, unbuckles his pants and throws it to the side as well. 

“did you even bring a bathing suit?” wenjun asks, but he knows the answer. 

zhengting just chuckles and slips off his boxer briefs before diving right into the water, shivers a little bit at how cold it is. after all, it’s nighttime. 

“it’s cold,” he whines, wading in the water he stares at wenjun all dry and clothed. “jump in. it’s not that bad, and it’ll be better if you’re in here too.” 

zhengting does that smile, the one where he knows wenjun will follow him anyways, the one where his eyes sparkle and his cheeks blush, and wenjun can’t resist giving zhengting what he wants. he strips down quickly, muttering something about getting caught and being arrested for trespassing and public nudity, but the moment that wenjun is in the water, zhengting pulls him further into the pool and wraps his arms around his neck, kisses him hard, and wenjun shuts up. 

“you’re such a bad influence,” wenjun whispers, presses zhengting against the side of the pool. 

zhengting laughs and disappears into the water. wenjun tries to count how many seconds zhengting is underwater, but it turns out that zhengting can hold his breath longer than he can hold back from coming.


	2. nice boys fuck fast

“are your parents fighting again?” wenjun asks when a chair crashes against the wall on the other side of zhengting’s bedroom.

“how can you tell?” he snorts, curling up in his bed as he switches his phone to his other hand, tries to keep himself in the frame of the video. 

“what are they fighting about this time?” he asks. 

“something about money. something about my sister. something about me. yada yada, it’s all noise,” he mutters, presses the side of his face into his pillows. “can you come sneak out and hang out with me? i really don’t want to be here.” 

“zhengting—”

“i know it’s a wednesday and we have school and all that garbage, but please?” he begs. he does that lower lip quiver that’s not very attractive, but zhengting has pretty lips and big eyes, and wenjun’s heart clenches. 

xinchun has told wenjun that he should be more assertive, that if he needs to take a breather for himself then he should, and wenjun’s missed four assignments and his gpa is rapidly dropping, but he hasn’t told zhengting any of that, doesn’t want to worry zhengting with the information.

“zhengting, i really can’t—" 

“is school really more important than your friend? your best friend?” zhengting snaps, sitting up. it happens like this every time. wenjun can’t count all the times zhengting has said those lines to him, and wenjun can’t count the times he’s fallen for it. it’s too many.

“what about you sneak out?” wenjun suggests, sighs as he grabs his nearest notebook. “you can stay here tonight, and i’ll drive you to school in the morning. bring a uniform.” 

zhengting smiles through the camera all bright and happy as if wenjun has just offered him the world and gives a sort of fake kiss before there’s more screaming by his parents. zhengting drops out of the frame at the sound of his door being flung open, the sound of zhengting screaming too. overwhelmed, wenjun hangs up abruptly. he stares at his notebook with the intention of finishing his biology notes, but he spaces out, worries about zhengting. 

when zhengting finally arrives at his window, he has a large bruise on his arm and his hand is cut.

“what happened?” wenjun asks, pulls him into his room. 

“nothing,” zhengting mutters, lets wenjun clean up the cut, lets him kiss it better, lets him kiss him into the mattress because that’s what they always do, that’s what they’ve been told. kisses make everything better--but wenjun’s heart aches when zhengting’s hands grab at the waistband of his pants; zhengting’s heart twists when wenjun breathes zhengting’s name with reverence, like he’s something to be worshipped, idolized. 

the words zhengting dreads are on the tip of wenjun’s tongue, so he kisses him the entire time that wenjun’s sex is inside of him, asks wenjun nicely to suck him off so that his mouth is occupied, kisses his mouth again after zhengting comes down his throat. he doesn’t want wenjun to talk, doesn’t want to risk wenjun saying something that he’ll regret. they’re friends. they’re friends that have sex. they’re childhood friends that have sex, but that’s all zhengting wants out of this. he’s seen the way hearts get stolen and broken, and he wants to keep his under lock and key. 

“i’m hanging out with this guy ziyi tomorrow,” zhengting says after they’ve caught their breaths, after wenjun has cleaned up their mess. sweat sticks to zhengting’s back, the sheets damp and sticky.

“i’ve heard of him. isn’t he that biker weed guy from the school across town?” wenjun mutters as he folds his uniform and lays it out for tomorrow, does the same with zhengting’s clothes so that they don’t wrinkle inside of his bag. 

zhengting rolls onto his side and stares at wenjun. in a different universe, in a different world, maybe he could’ve come to appreciate the way that wenjun takes care to fold his clothes and cook him food, kiss him good morning and good night and drive him to school, but watching wenjun busy himself with the homework he hasn’t finished and the arbitrary socks lying around the floor just irks zhengting. 

“he said he’s gonna show me around town and maybe hang out at his place,” zhengting says, pulls the blankets up to his chin. 

“after school?” wenjun asks pointedly, and zhengting snorts.

“i’m skipping my last class,” he says. “don’t worry. it’s study hall. it’s not that important.” 

“studying’s important.” wenjun, notebook in hand, stares at zhengting for a long moment before he puts the book down, slides into bed with zhengting and kisses him into his pillows, hand on his hips, and zhengting giggles at the attention. 

“zhengting…” he whispers, lips to lips.

“hm?”

they stare at each other in the eyes, the air between them a bit too stale and too sweet all at the same time. it’s the familiarity of their childhood closeness and the unfamiliarity of this new territory of developing feelings, daring to toe the line. it’s the fact that wenjun’s bedroom holds contrasting memories of make believe tea parties and playing hide-and-seek as well as that one time zhengting asked wenjun to choke him during sex. zhengting wants to stay safely in his borders, keep these memories confined to wenjun’s four bedroom walls, but wenjun keeps trying to find ways into his cage. 

who knew that wenjun was the more daring of the two ironically? 

“be careful,” wenjun says, eyes quivering with concern. 

“don’t worry. i heard he’s a nice guy,” zhengting says, kisses wenjun’s lips one last time before he snuggles down against the blankets and pillows and tries to go to sleep, wenjun’s arms around his waist.


	3. out of it...

ziyi is the nicest boy zhengting’s met since wenjun, zhengting decides when ziyi lets zhengting take his motorcycle out for a spin.

“actually it’s my brother’s,” ziyi mentions off-handedly, but zhengting can’t hear him over the loud roar of the engine when he revs the bike. 

ziyi lets zhengting take the bike out around the neighborhood, which is much bigger than zhengting originally thought, but the houses are just as shabby as they could be for proper working class. it’s amazing that ziyi’s bike hasn’t been nicked or scratched while living in this area. people are scavengers for anything. zhengting’s seen the girls in this neighborhood scavenge for bruising kisses and pink collars; the boys scramble for the pieces of broken heart shards that they forgot to keep safe. 

when zhengting finally gets bored of riding the bike, ziyi leads him inside, grabs a bottle of water for the two of them, and locks them inside of his bedroom. zhengting’s only been inside of ziyi’s house twice, but he always thinks it looks nicer on the outside. the inside of ziyi’s house shows signs of distress with its peeling paint and spintered door frames, a family that can barely hold itself together in the walls of a house that wants to collapse. stress breaks down a human’s body. can it break down the foundations of a home as well? zhengting’s family might be falling apart, but their house is particularly clean, their dirty laundry swept promptly under their cotton rugs and velvet curtains. 

“you’re cute,” ziyi says, pushes zhengting down onto his bed.

this is never how it goes with wenjun. wenjun is soft and gentle, coaxes zhengting into having sex—actually, zhengting is usually the one coaxing wenjun, and it’s nice to be with someone who takes charge for a change, but zhengting still likes his own control. zhengting grabs ziyi’s shoulder and forces him to turn around, flips them so that ziyi is on his back and zhengting is in his lap. 

“you’re cute too,” zhengting giggles, and ziyi grabs him by the back of the neck and kisses him hard. 

he shouldn’t compare the two, but he does—can’t help but notice the fact that ziyi has larger hands and seems more sure of himself, grips zhengting’s hips tight and smooths his thumbs over his thighs like he owns them, bucks into zhengting with force and carelessness. wenjun would never dare fuck make love to zhengting with less respect than what a commoner gives a king, but ziyi fucks zhengting as if he is the king and zhengting is his concubine. perhaps the combination isn’t bad. 

the sound of a door opening echoes through the house, and ziyi groans as he sits up, grabs zhengting by the hips and flips their positions before he continues to hammer into him.

“fuck, i think my stepmom is home,” he mutters, kisses zhengting’s cheek as he fucks into him harder.

“you… ah—gonna greet her or something?” zhengting pants, clings to the bedsheets.

“why would i do that when i have a beautiful boy on my dick,” he laughs. 

zhengting comes a few minutes later, overstimulated by ziyi’s carelessness. ziyi comes seconds after zhengting, hastily begs zhengting to suck off the remnants of his release to avoid having to use a towel to clean up. they take a haphazard shower together before ziyi finally goes to greet his stepmother. zhengting doesn’t quite listen, but it’s definitely not a pleasant conversation, and it ends with his stepmother slamming the door to her bedroom. perhaps he’s become too accustomed to the sound.

“let’s go for a ride. we can eat at the diner down the street—my treat,” ziyi says when zhengting is finally dressed, pulls zhengting outside. ziyi climbs onto the bike in front of zhengting and takes control of the handles. zhengting opens his mouth to ask what just happened between him and his stepmother, but ziyi is already speeding off, and zhengting has to hold tight onto ziyi’s slim waist to keep himself from flying off. 

“wenjun didn’t want me coming out here,” zhengting mutters, eyes his own cellphone as he lets wenjun’s call go to voicemail. 

“who’s wenjun?” ziyi asks, shoves a fry into his mouth as he wipes his fingers on a napkin. 

“no one,” zhengting says in the same way one says the name of a long lost friend, in the same aura as the wind whispering through canyons. zhengting stares out the window into the parking lot. “he and i had sex yesterday.” 

“congrats. was it good?” ziyi takes a sip of his soda. 

“it was the same. stifling, hot, stuffy. too many emotions.” zhengting pauses to take a sip of his water and adds, “he uses too much lube.” 

ziyi laughs and accidentally brushes his foot against zhengting’s under the table. “you can never go wrong with too much lube. it’s better than not enough,” he says, sitting back in his seat. “was i better than him?”

not better, but not worse, zhengting thinks, but he just shrugs and lets ziyi figure out what that can mean. by the way that ziyi smirks, zhengting figures ziyi is taking his answer as a yes. they’re just different. wenjun is like the river current gently and constantly lapping at the bank, begs to widen his horizons and drag zhengting down into his love, but ziyi is raging currents that pull zhengting this way and that. perhaps their similarities lie in the fact that they both have the ability to drown zhengting. 

“i wanna get out of here,” zhengting suddenly says, watches the sun disappear behind the trees. 

“well, i’m done eating. where do you wanna go?”

zhengting shakes his head. “no. i mean… i wanna get outta here. like…”

“out of the city?”

“out of this life.” 

zhengting would never tell wenjun something like that, would never tell wenjun that he has no intentions of going to college and following wenjun to the top schools for law or medicine. wenjun would try too hard to cheat on zhengting’s exams and essays, get him into the same school as him. wenjun would really risk too much for zhengting, and he doesn’t deserve wenjun’s attention like this. 

ziyi gets out of the booth first, motions for zhengting to follow him quickly. ah, zhengting realizes, ziyi doesn’t have money. the diner owner doesn’t realize they haven’t paid after ziyi has revved the engine of his bike and driven off into the quickly setting night. as they drive away, the owner’s small body disappears while he screams and curses at them. zhengting chuckles and rests his head against ziyi’s back, holds him comfortably as ziyi drives to nowhere.


	4. hit and miss, but mostly miss

“you missed school again,” wenjun says when zhengting climbs through his window on a humid night, notices that zhengting is wearing a jacket that doesn’t belong to him. 

zhengting hasn’t really been going to school since he started hanging out with ziyi. he’s sure his parents have noticed his absence by now, but neither have really made an effort to bring him back home nor keep him there. 

“it’s fine,” zhengting says, setting his bag down.

“no. it’s not fine. i know you don’t like school, but at least try. you’re not stupid, zhengting,” wenjun exclaims, grabs zhengting by the wrist, and zhengting yanks his hand away.

“i’m gonna drop out,” zhengting confesses, doesn’t dare look at the heartbreak in wenjun’s eyes as every future plan he’d ever thought of goes up in flames. no sharing a dorm with zhengting in college, no meals together, no study dates. wenjun always thought that maybe if zhengting’s grades got up and wenjun helped him and made zhengting go to school that maybe zhengting would actually start studying and have incentive despite his awful parents, but seeing how adamant zhengting was about not studying… wenjun feels a bit helpless. 

“fine,” wenjun mutters. “waste your life.” 

he sounds like he’s going to cry, and zhengting’s first thought is that he should kiss wenjun, make him feel better, let wenjun make love to him and pretend like they can be together forever… but perhaps that would just confuse him more. 

“what do you want me to do?” zhengting asks softly, knows the answer, knows what will come out of wenjun’s mouth, knows wenjun wants him to go to school with him and get good grades and be best friends forever and do everything together like they always have—but wenjun always manages to surprise him. 

“love me.” wenjun’s voice is meek and soft, a request—because wenjun has never demanded anything from zhengting in his life, always requested. so polite. 

“wenjun—”

“don’t. we’re not just friends, and you know it. we haven’t been friends for years. i don’t care that we grew up together—you know it’s become more than that now. i wouldn’t do all of this just for friends. i wouldn’t cheat on tests or let you sneak over here at 3 in the morning. i wouldn’t let just anyone take my notes and use my clothes. you know i wouldn’t.”

none of their friends have seen the inside of wenjun’s house sans zhengting. justin’s been begging to come over since freshman year, and xinchun boasts about being in the kitchen once for juice. zhengting is the exception to everything. the air between them becomes stale, tastes like burnt popcorn and smells like sex sweat, heavy with the words “stay with me forever.” 

“i’ll see you at school tomorrow,” zhengting says, grabs his backpack and climbs out the window the way he came in. wenjun makes to reach out for him, beg him to stay, let him sleep here the night--but zhengting is down the street before wenjun has a chance to really say anything. 

he’s always missing his chances.

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](http://twitter.com/nongtanq)


End file.
